


Freedom is never given, it is won

by DarthWriter



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Alpha, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid Character, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, King Tony Stark, M/M, Mentions of Prostitution, Minor Violence, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Bucky Barnes, Queen Bucky Barnes, endgame stuckony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29856957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthWriter/pseuds/DarthWriter
Summary: Bucky was ripped off his family to be wed to the Prince years ago and feels very unsatisfied with his current life. He's gonna work actively to change that.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 33
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this and feel confused by the changing pronouns, just know that I've chosen them carefully. Enjoy! ;-)

Bucky was fourteen when he was sent away to be the Prince's betrothed. 

His mother wept and wept until there wasn't an ounce of liquid left in her body. By the time he was lifted up into the royal carriage, her eyes were so swollen she couldn't even look at him in the eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and let out a shuddering breath. "My baby boy," she whispered heartbreakingly. She never finished her sentence, perhaps she already knew then, deep inside, that the path she was sending her only son to, was one of utmost unhappiness.

Bucky never saw his parents again.

He's not begrudging them. What other choice did they have? Their hands were already full with four daughters to marry. What could they do with an omega with a bad arm, and a male one, on top of that?

Bucky grew up in a farm, his parents have always done their best to raise their five children but times were hard. One bad harvest and there was an entire family starving. They wished for a son so hard, one that could take on the farm after them and help with hard work in the meantime, but their wish was never granted. Instead, they brought to the world, an omega. Omegas are already a rare thing in itself, but a male one is considered a precious jewel. His parents, though, had never heard of such a thing as a male omega. They were clueless as to how to raise him, they did the best they could. Infant Bucky has been raised as a boy but then during his second year of life, he had a scarlet fever and when his desperate parents spent the last of their savings to see a doctor and save his life, they also learnt he was omega. 

Then he was raised as a girl.

Bucky never felt like a girl. He does have female parts, inside her wombs—and now, after being pregnant five times already, there is no denying that anymore—but his outside body is one of a man. No matter how much they keep trying to make him look like a woman. She can't even breathe in her corset.

Bucky feels like a man. Well, most of the time at least. And he is attracted to women, mostly. At least he thinks he is, but it's not like he ever got the chance to be with one.

His parents realized it at some point and after a few years, they stopped trying to make a girl out of him. They let him do what he wanted to do and be whoever he wanted to be. If he wished to be dressed like a boy then so be it, and if sometimes, when she felt particularly depressed, she liked to wear one of her sisters outfit then, no-one had anything to say about it.

Needless to say from that day onward, Bucky grew up to be a curiosity. First because of his lifeless arm, then because of his odd gender. Once people knew, they started looking at him funny. Even funnier than they did before. They treated him differently, equally fascinated, equally queasy.

So when King Stark got wind of the existence of such a precious jewel in his realm, of course he was going to have her married to his son. He wasn't even repelled by his infirmity. His parents could not refuse that proposal. Bucky can't blame them. Of course, he can't.

Bucky usually hates his female parts, for they are always associated to bad things in his head and in his life. Whenever she feels like a woman, it's usually because she feels depressed or when bad things happen to her, like her wedding night or all the nights she spent with her husband afterwards—Bucky can count them on his fingers. Or all the times that she looks at her five children and feels like jumping out from the tallest tower of the castle in which she was imprisoned eight years ago.

Bucky is withering away in his gilded cage, each day a little bit more. He spends his lonely days staring at the horizon and dreaming of adventures.

Her dress is so tight she feels dizzy and faint.


	2. Chapter 2

"Your highness?" 

...

"Your highness!"

...

_"Jane!"_

It's the desperation in the tone that snaps her out of it. She doesn't even have in herself the strength to feel angry at the use of the name like he usually is. Instead, she steps down from the rampart lifelessly and resigns herself.

"Come here, your highness. Little Morgan is wailing."

Margaret takes her hand and leads her back inside where her children are playing. She looks at them. She hates them, all of them. She resent their births. Every one of them representing another year she spent alongside her husband, the king. Each of them a token of the loneliest nights she ever had in her life. The ones when her husband visited her bed, did his thing, and left.

To be honest, he doesn't always hate them. Sometimes, he feels little bursts of hope and happiness burning in his chest at the sight of them. Sometimes his heart warms with a surge of affection for them. He enjoys their company sometimes, enjoys seeing them play or plays with them but those moments are such a rarity he's glad he managed to fool the doctors by letting them believe that as a man he could not breast-feed them. Hence, the necessity of having a wet nurse. The king had been so adamant about her duties as a mother. She was to look after them herself, there was no escaping that. Something about his own lonely childhood apparently... He likes the new one. At least, Margaret is good company. Most of the time anyway. She seems to care, Bucky thinks, even if it's just a little.

Stephen, Grant, Peter, Harley, Morgan. If his parents had trouble conceiving a boy, he certainly hasn't. Four boys, one girl. All of them alphas, except his little baby girl who is so unlucky as to be omega too. Bucky hopes in her hearts she will never suffer the same destiny. He didn't even have a say in choosing their names. Only Morgan did Anthony let him choose the name, among several options. She chose it in reference to Morgan Le Fay, the powerful enchantress in the Arthurian Legend. He hopes she will be as fearless and strong, at least.

Margaret pats his attire and straightens the fabric. He glances at her voluptuous breast for a split second and feels like palming them but he refrains the urge. That would be bad. That would be really bad. Maybe the burnt on a stake kind of bad, Bucky isn't sure but not particularly keen to find out.

As much as he's wanted to be unfaithful to his husband in the past, he never quite mustered the courage to. For as long as he remembers, he's never felt any kind of desire for his husband. Not in the true sense of the word. He did find him attractive the first time they met, on a platonic scale, but that's about it because he can't honestly say that his husband is an ugly. He _is_ handsome. He was then, he is now.

The young prince was glaring and pouting and gritting his teeth, glancing at the king from time to time, hatred in his eyes, and at other times, at the Royal Guard, longingly.

He was twenty two the first time they met, exactly the same age Bucky is now. Bucky understood instantly he was never wanted. The Prince's eyes were pooling with something forlorn when Bucky was dropped off at his feet like the most precious gift he had ever been offered. The king smiled satisfyingly as both him and Anthony understood at that moment that they would be joined to one another in a life of unhappiness and that for the rest of their existence, no matter what.

Prince Anthony didn't make much effort to get to know his betrothed during those two years preceding the wedding. The little boy Bucky used to be grew up fast into a disillusioned adult. On the day of his sixteenth birthday they should be wed and wed they were. Their union was grand. Seven days worth of celebration. The entire kingdom at their feet. Feasting like there would be no tomorrow. It certainly was the case for Bucky. No tomorrow that was worth living anyway. Bucky's fingers trembled in her husband's hand when they walked out of the Church. She was livid under her white veil. She felt like a fraud.

The man who met him in his chamber that night was a complete stranger. They had barely talked a dozen of times during those two years. Bucky was persuaded it would be her last day on the earth then. That she would be beheaded the next day, that the last two years she had lied to everyone, were just two years of postponing the inevitable, for she was no virgin.

He told his husband so.

The prince looked at him with bewilderment then he smiled softly, perhaps trying to be reassuring. "I won't tell anyone," he just said. And then he walked up to him and splayed a hand on her womb. "It doesn't matter anyway. Only an alpha can impregnate you. You're not a woman."

He wasn't a man either. He was just a boy who didn't even have facial hair yet and had to look up to meet his husband's eyes. The man who wouldn't even need force to invade her body. He _wished_ he was a boy, at least, but it's more complicated than that. He felt his beliefs waver.

Bucky widened his eyes. He didn't know that, had never known that. What did it even mean 'it doesn't matter'? That Bucky could fool around with anyone who wasn't alpha? Maybe not to that extent, but if Bucky stopped feeling like his life was in danger in his husband's company, he still felt downright rejected and unloved at that moment.

Bucky doesn't think his husband is a bad person inherently. He's never been purposely mean to him, he just doesn't care. All he sees in Bucky are his womb and how much it can produce new healthy heirs to him. The rest of him, of _her,_ he has no interest in. He'd rather make gooey eyes at the Captain of his Royal Guard. Bucky has noticed over the years and decided he would get to the bottom of it and find out what exactly it is that seems to connect the two of them in an infallible bond. They seem close. Closer than he and Anthony ever was. Up until now, he has always failed in his attempts of finding out.

"Jane," Margaret says in a wise tone. 

"Please, you need to call me Bucky." The young woman smiles. She's probably older than him, though.

"Then you need to call me Peggy."

"His majesty wants you to share dinner with him tonight." Peggy explains while looking at his gown. "You need to get prepared."

Bucky doesn't feel any joy at the prospect. At the most, it will be another boring evening.

Anthony speaks softly at the other end of the long table. There's only the two of them eating but the table could seat twelve people easily and they're surrounded with servants and guards. Anthony glances up at the captain who's standing still on his right. They share a look. What a lonely evening! That scene is an appropriate metaphor for their relationship, Bucky thinks.

"Jane, my dear—" his husband says.

"My _name_ is _Bucky."_

Bucky is reminiscent of that first night they spent together. That night when Bucky was doomed to an eternity of nothingness. Anthony had followed him to his chambers. Perhaps he felt as vulnerable as Bucky felt then. He was hesitant and moved clumsily. He stumbled in front of him and lifted the veil Bucky had been hiding under the entire day and put it behind him. Their eyes met for a long moment, studying each other. Anthony's flickered from one place to another, scrutinizing his face with scientific focus. Bucky felt the knuckles of his right hand brush down his limp arm. He shivered.

Anthony bit his lips and pinched them. "Did you feel that?" He asked, expectantly. He didn't have a beard then. His skin was so smooth and perfect.

Bucky nodded. 

"Does it hurt?" His husband asked with a tinge of concern in the tone. His voice was hoarse, Bucky remembers, as if broken with fear. Never again he heard him speak like that. 

Bucky shook his head. It didn't hurt. It just felt— _weird._

The knuckles of his husband then brushed down Bucky's cheek. "Jane..." He whispered.

Bucky's eyes flickered wide open and he grabbed his husband's wrist to stop the gesture. "That's not my real name."

Anthony stared at him questioningly. "What?" He asked with an uneasy smile on his face. "Isn't that what the priest said?"

"When I was born I was baptized as James. When they found out I was omega they changed it for Jane but my parents and my sisters always called me Bucky."

Anthony laughed.

Throwing his head back in a full body laugh. His nose wrinkled. "What a hideous name!" He said. Bucky hated him. "I shall not call my spouse _Bucky."_

Perhaps she made a grimace then, and Anthony's smile died on his lips. He brushed his fingers on her cheek again, cupping her face in his hand. She shivered, almost leant in the touch. "Jane, I'm sorry." Anthony said. "If you want me to call you Bucky then I will."

"Jane is fine." Bucky answered. It was fine enough, in those circumstances, she thought. Anthony licked his lips again and his hands landed on her hips.

She shivered again.

"Do you want me to undress first?" Her newly husband asked.

She shook her head.

"Shall, I help you undress then?" 

She shook her head again, adamantly.

He laughed, sounding awkward and uneasy. "You know we will have to do it at some point. I—" He stopped in the middle of his sentence and his hand ran up her sides and down her shoulder to finish its course in hers. He brought her hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss there, staring into her eyes. "I'm scared too, you know? I've never bedded an omega before."

She stared up at him. Curious and scared at the same time. She had counted on him, thought he knew what he was doing. The fact that he was inexperienced terrified her even more.

He unbuttoned his clothes, pulled out his shirt and grabbed her wrist clumsily. "Do you want to touch my knot?" He asked hesitantly, averting his eyes. 

Bucky was shocked. She shook her head again.

"Can I touch you then?" 

"I don't want your hands on my body." The words left her mouth before she could think about the consequences. She couldn't be any more sincere however. 

The look on his face was hurt, his eyes slightly wet. He smiled again, ill-at-ease. "You know you have to get wet or it will hurt otherwise."

"Just do what you have to do."

Bucky remembers she was overwhelmed. She felt _assaulted_ in the deepest part of her body and her soul, but he doesn't remember if it hurt. She was trying to flee that moment, escaping in her mind.

She cried afterward. For hours. Anthony splayed an embarrassed hand on her shoulder and muttered "I'm sorry" in her ear. And then he left, to never come back again.

When he looks back on that night, Bucky can't help thinking his husband is not a bad man. At least he wasn't then. There was still some innocence about him then, before he became king. Perhaps that innocence has long been gone.

Bucky didn't get pregnant but Anthony did not visit his chambers again like the custom requires it. He waited several months instead. In fact, he and Dr Banner studied his cycles and when he visited him again, it was right on the spot and it worked. Every damned time. Five times his husband took advantage of his rightful ownership over his body, five time Bucky got pregnant. And he went through all the changes in his body on his own, when, to be honest, he might not have been as reluctant about letting his husband inside his chambers then.

The funniest thing is that now he has a reputation. People talk.

His husband takes a sip of his wine and smiles at him. Never really looking him in the eye, however. "You know we're reaching that time of the month and I thought, you know. Now, that Morgan is—"

 _"No."_ Bucky cut short.

He doesn't know what just took over him. He never contradicted his husband before. Not as outwardly. Not in front of the servants and the guards and their counselors. He shivers.

The king only raises an eyebrow. "No?"

"I _will not_ bear another one of your pup again." Bucky continues, unable to stop. He might as well throw himself out of the window right this instant if he has to go through all of it again.

"But I thought—"

 _"No."_ Bucky protests. He doesn't know how he found the courage to oppose his husband or deny him anything but once he's started, he can't stop. As if all his frustration suddenly pours out of him in an unstoppable flow of words. "I gave you four boys, your majesty." He yells, standing up and splaying his functioning hand on the table for more dramatic effect. "Four healthy boys. I've done my part. I'm begging you, please, don't ask more of me. If the only reason you want to visit my chamber is to procreate then my answer is _no."_

His husband smirks. "Is there another reason you would like me to visit your chambers then?"

Bucky goes red. "Absolutely not." He blurts. 

The smirk is gone. "Very well, my dear." Anthony says. "I heard you and shall not bother you with it again." 


	3. Chapter 3

That was exhilarating.

Bucky still feels dizzy. His whole body shudders with the memory of it. He shall remember this day, when he finally decided to stand up to his husband. He wonders why he waited so long.

That night he tosses and turns in his bed and can't find sleep. He can't forget the look of resignation on his husband's face. The pain almost inconspicuous in his eyes. Bucky had not idea he still had the power to affect the king. Perhaps, he never knew he ever had that kind of power over the king. The knowledge makes him feel warm.

That night his body tingles all over, as if the surge of freedom, the glimpse of power, had awoken something in his body. Something that ignited every part of him. His husband isn't so repulsive after all, he reckons. He would even say he is still handsome. And yes, Bucky once said he was attracted to women but a man once in while doesn't seem like a bad prospect either. Perhaps, he should have accepted that invitation to visit him for non-procreating activities?

Who is he fooling? 

His husband was joking, surely. He's always been so keen on making pleasantries at dinner. He enjoys the attention, always had. Why would he say something of the sort if not to embarrass Bucky in front of everyone? And why would the king want to be anywhere near Bucky's chambers at night unless to give him another heir? 

Bucky kills that ludicrous thought in the nest. He shall not indulge in such base contemplations.

What he does however, the next morning, is actively thinking about how he could get other things from the king. Things to improve his day-to-day life. Things to make him forget about his gilded cage. Perhaps he could even expect being granted a journey in the outside world some times. Bucky starts dreaming again, He starts _hoping_ again.

That wonderful feeling of being free, even just for a few moments, felt so good. He wants that again. He wants that _thrill_ again.

And for a week he does that, he follows his husband everywhere, trying to get as much as he can get on him. He realizes his husband, despite those six years of marriage, is still a stranger to him. He knows nothing of who he is. Perhaps, he should also resume his investigation on the unusually close relationship his husband seems to maintain with Captain Rogers. Perhaps he should ask the good captain himself, what his husband is like... But the captain terrifies him.

By the end of the week, Bucky has grown used to hearing the determined steps of the king on the hard stones of the castle's floor. He's grown used to meet him unexpectedly at one corner of the maze that is his gilded prison, or down the long corridor, or to stumble upon him reading in the huge library at the top of the tallest tower. This is not a place Bucky usually goes to, for he is a poor reader, indeed.

After two weeks, Bucky has discovered that his husband likes tinkering, soldering iron and make things, all kinds of things. He likes reading books about science and astronomy. He enjoys playing chess and sparring with the Captain. Bucky looks at them with stars in his eyes and starts dreaming again each time the blades meet and sparkle in the yard. He wants that too, he wants to learn how to fight. The king also often leaves the castle on horses with a few of his guards, always the same ones, in very simple attires, and Bucky is dying to know where they're going and what they're doing.

After three weeks, Bucky feels like he missed something, like perhaps, if he hadn't been so cold those six years may have happen differently and his heart seems to bloom with new kinds of feelings for his husband. He fondles that ludicrous idea again. Perhaps, it is just the product of his extreme loneliness. One crazy night, Bucky can't find sleep and after trying to find peace in different sort of activities and finding none, he puts on one of the only outfits made for a man he possesses, one he stole from the stableboy, and leaves his chambers. It's too small for his manly built now but it will do. It's better to wear that if he's planning to roam around the castle in the middle of night.

As he secretly paces around the corridors in his improvised night walk, his steps unconsciously lead him to the king's chambers. His heart skips a beat. He stares at the guarded door, from afar, and almost fondles the idea again. He feels his body tingle. He doesn't even know exactly what he's expecting. Perhaps he just wants to spend time with his husband, without necessarily sharing his bed. Just get to know him. Something he never got the chance to in his eight years of living here.

Another time maybe.

Bucky sighs and turns around, with the intent to go back to his lonely room, when he hears heavy metallic steps resonate against the hard stones. He glances back and swivels on his feet, hiding behind the hanging. The captain salutes the two guards and nods. They let him pass.

Why would the captain visit the king at such ungodly hours? Is there an emergency? Are they playing chess? Secretly planning for the next war? Does he read him bedtime stories like his companions do sometimes? That doesn't make any sense.

Bucky keeps staring at the guarded door of his husband, perplexed.

It bothers him. And during the following days, Bucky learns that it's quite a recurrent thing. He decides he wants to know. 

That day he asks to be dressed with his best attires and ties his hair beautifully with the most precious jewels his husband offered him on their wedding day, a golden brooch mounted with rubies and diamonds. Before leaving his chambers, he looks at himself in the mirror. With his dressing gown, his corset and his hair tied, he almost looks like a pretty girl despite his tall stature. He throws one last hateful glance to the mirror and braces himself. 

It is easy for him to obtain entry in his husband's quarters despite his absence, he is the _queen_ after all. Once inside, he hides and waits till the changing of the guards. He waits till nightfall. He waits till the moment the captain will knock on the door.

When the sun is finally setting, Anthony makes an appearance in his chambers. It is still early but Bucky sees him removing his pieces of clothing one after the other until there is nothing but skin covering him. Bucky gasps at the sight and shivers all over. He had never seen his husband naked before and now he wonders why he always insisted he kept his clothes on whenever they were procreating. Now, looking at his gleaming olive skin and the line of hairs trailing down his stomach, it seems a shame. His husband is _beautiful._

The king doesn't stay long without something covering his skin. He slides his arms into a tunic open on the front and pours himself a glass of wine. Then he has a bath brought down to him. Bucky watches with some devious curiosity how the servants rubs his husband's skin with the washcloths and the way Anthony lays his head back and closes his eyes and the way he hums pleasurably ignites something in his body.

The servants go but the king stay in his bath and washes his private parts himself, very _thoroughly._ Bucky blushes.

He feels a slight tremor in his hand. He is agitated. For a moment, he is tempted to show himself to his husband and demand, ask him in this moment of vulnerability for all the things he wants to change in his life.

He almost steps forward but loses his momentum when he hears loud steps from the entrance door and huddles back against the wall, in his hiding spot. The captain makes a grand entrance while the king is still half-naked, his open tunic hiding nothing of his modesty, a glass of wine in his hand. Aren't he ashamed of himself?

The urgency in the captain's steps stops when his eyes encounter the sight of the king. Something dark flashes in them and he stops to drink the sight of him. There is a content smile on his face and the king is smirking. Then, Anthony sways his way into the captain's personal space and drops lazy arms onto his shoulders. "Captain, oh my captain." He slurs in a husky voice Bucky has never heard before but gives him goosebumps. "What took you so long?"

"A small breach in the ramparts that needed tending." The captain answers. His eyes are hazy and his lips parted. He stares at Bucky's husband and brings a hand to his face. With a finger he lifts his chin softly, just enough so their eyes meet. There isn't much size difference between them but the Captain is still taller and a lot bulkier. The king's body is toned but slender. "I can see you started without me."

The king pouts and averts his eyes. "I was bored."

There is a moist moment of silence before the captain mutters hoarsely, "I'm here, now." And the way they look at each other now is, well, Bucky doesn't have words for it but it makes him feel hot under the collar. The corset compresses his ribcage and he can't breathe.

The king steps back and pats his hands on the captain's chest. "You're wearing way too much layers." He mutters while staring at the bump his protected shoulder. "These need to go away right this instant."

The captain chuckles and starts unbuckling while the king takes off the pieces of his armor one after the other, peeling the captain off his clothes delicately. Soon both men are naked and the captain grabs Bucky's husband's neck, cupping his face delicately in his strong hands. The king leans into the touch and nuzzles against his hand. The captain's hand slides down the king's neck and his splayed fingers brush along the muscles of his chest and down his stomach. The king shivers.

Bucky isn't much experienced but he knows enough to understand what is happening before his eyes. Part of him is appalled. What is his husband doing with someone else, with another man on top of it, another _alpha...?_ Bucky has never heard of such a thing before but surely this must be very wrong.

Part of him is a little jealous as well. For he never had this kind of attention in his life, this affection, this... _love_. No-one ever looked at him the way they're looking at each other and certainly not his husband. No-one ever touched him the way they're touching at each other, with so much delicacy and passion.

But there's another part of him, one that one should keep hidden deep in oneself, one certainly devious and perverse, that can't quite keep his eyes away and stares at the scene, entranced.

The captain pulls the king's neck to him and kisses him languorously. Anthony, _Bucky's_ husband, lets out a choked out breath and _moans_. He moans and shivers again and their bodies are glistening with sweat under the flickering light of the chandelier.

The captain presses their bodies against each other and grabs the king by the waist. The latter hauls himself and curls his legs around the taller man who carries him towards the large bed made of expensive furs and linen.

Like a bonfire crackling and burning ardently, two alphas joined in bed together is brutal and explosive. Their kisses are abrasive and passionate, their bites are strong. And the noises they are making, the growls, the moans, the little cries of pleasure, roil deep in Bucky's lower belly.

She stands there, frozen, mouth agape. This is the most beautiful thing she has even seen. The most wonderful, the most passionate, the most breath-taking. Her heartbeat accelerates.

For the first time in her life, she feels desire for her husband. A strong, powerful growing desire that makes her feel dizzy. She is wet, he is hard, they are... they are... _flustered._ Their body is burning with want. They stand there and there's a tremor in their jaw. A shiver runs down their spine, one that tingles right to the tip of their fingers. 

She gasps and feels tears running down her cheeks.

There is so much tenderness in their touches. This is what it means, Bucky thinks, when two people make love to each other.

The king giggles and throws his head back. His expression is blissful and his smile euphoric, blessed by the gods. He is so beautiful. They kiss one last time, it's a long languorous kiss, filled with love and passion and so very tender. The captain traces a finger from the top of the king's nose down to his lips and chin and plants one last kiss, light and soft, on the corner of his mouth.

Their caresses might have lasted all night long if they weren't interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Bucky curls on himself. The king grumbles and gets up, he ties his tunic around him and goes to the door. 

"Tony?" The captain asks with a look of concern when the kings come back. "Is there a problem?"

"It's the queen," the king answers, "he's missing. They can't find him anywhere."

Bucky's heart makes a leap and he huddles in his hiding spot. He should have thought about this before, he feels a blush of shame heating his face and a little pang in his chest as the king said "him" and not "her" when he spoke of him. Does that mean he considers him as a man, just like he always wanted? 

The captain jerks up and starts gathering his pieces of clothes. "He can't be far," he says while brushing his knuckles along the king's jaw.

The king grabs the lapels of his shirt and drops his head onto his shoulder. "Stay in bed with me," he whines, eyes a little hazy. "Barton can deal with it."

The captain's hand curls around his wrist and he pushes him away. As opposed to the king, his gaze his focused "Tony," he sighs disapprovingly, "I'm the captain of the king's guard. If the queen is missing, this is my duty to find.

Anthony makes an exasperated noise. "Argh... From the very day he was brought to me, I knew he was trouble."

Bucky's heart twinges. The captain snorts and rolls his eyes. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he whispers while brushing his nose again, "I'll find him."

 _Sweetheart._ Did the captain just call _his_ husband 'sweetheart'?

When the captain leaves, Bucky lets out a long sigh of relief and watches his husband collapse on the bed. Suddenly, there's a whirlwind of emotions in his heart. It's a war. An intense battle of conflicted feelings. His chest constricts. A tremor shakes his body. Rage. An incommensurable rage starts pooling at the bottom of his stomach. He clenches his fists. His husband, however, is relaxed, still in a daze, sprawled like a cat on the furs. He touches his lips as if remembering the taste of the captain on them. He looks like he escaped to another world. A world of ecstasy. Bucky feels like committing murder.

His hand shake, he almost reaches for the dagger he always carries with him.

Almost, because he can hear a ruffle behind him and turns around. The captain is staring at him with piercing eyes, arms crossed against his chest. Bucky gasps in fear and steps backward. His hands tremble.

"I'll scream," he whispers.

The captain frowns.

Bucky sucks in a shivering breath, partly out of fear, partly out of anger. As much as he hates the king for not wanting him, he also hates the captain for stealing his husband's heart. Not that he ever wanted it, simply out of principles. Perhaps also because no-one wants his.

He knows deep in himself that he should just lower his gaze, apologize and run back to his chambers, pretending none of this happened. But now he knows. What he just saw he can never unsee. Perhaps, he knew before, suspected at least, unconsciously, but now, he _knows._

Things need to change.

"I'll tell everyone." He says while gritting his teeth.

The captain snorts angrily. "You will tell no-one." He growls through gritted teeth and steps forward menacingly. "Or I'll break every bone in your body."

Bucky gasps and seizes his dagger. He stretches his good arm, pointing the dagger underneath the captain's throat. Bucky isn't a fighter but he did learn a few moves when he was thirteen. Brock, the farrier's son, agreed to spar with him and taught him how to fight. That was until Bucky realized Brock wasn't interested in being his friend, he only wanted to push him into the hay. The training ended that day, just like Bucky's innocence.

"I don't care," he spits, while holding the dagger straight to the captain's jugular. "You don't scare me, captain. You can threaten me as much as you want but whatever happens, I'll make sure everyone knows."

The man tenses, his nose flaring, and before Bucky knows it, he's pinned against the wall, a strong hand pressed on his neck, choking him. He can't move. The captain glares, showing angry teeth and presses harder. The corset is too tight and his heart is racing, his head already dizzy with the lack of air. He closes his eyes. Suddenly, the captain's lips are on his. Strong and soft and delicious. 

She drops the dagger.

"What is going on?"

She opens her eyes when she hears her husband's voice. The pressure on her neck loosens but the hand is still warm and inexorable around her, pinning her on the wall like a tapestry. 

"I found the queen." The captain says through gritted teeth, his piercing blue eyes still focused on her.

Anthony appears from behind the curtain and looks at them worriedly. "Steve?" He asks with a hesitant voice. "Can I ask what your hand is doing on my husband's neck?"

The captain— _Steve—_ growls and squeezes again, glaring at her. "She was threatening you."

"Is that why you were kissing her?"

Bucky feels a sob coming. _"Steve?"_ She cries, glancing at the captain and searching in his eyes how he could have ever guessed Bucky felt like a _she_ right now, when just a moment ago he used the word _him_ to refer to her. "Steve as in _Stephen?"_ She asks and then looks at her husband. She swallows her sob down. "Did you name our first born after your _lover?"_

"It's Steven with a V." The captain corrects while, at the same time, Anthony replies. "Absolutely. And our second born," he says indifferently. "And I would have all of them if Steve had enough names."

Bucky is horrified. She feels the sobs coming back, like her whole world is crumbling down.

The king's hand lands on the captain's shoulder. "Perhaps you should let him go now." He commands in the softest voice.

"She is here to kill you." The captain explains while glaring still, hatred in his eyes.

The king startles and stares at her with some sort of disappointment in his eyes. He glances back and notices the dagger. He swallows. "Is that true, my dear?"

"I'm _not_ your dear." Bucky spits through gritted teeth. Both men are staring at her questioningly. The captain's hand finally releases her.

"He _asked_ you a question." He growls annoyedly. His arms are crossed on his chest and the way he stands, fully armed, is threatening.

"I didn't come here to kill you." She admits reluctantly. She would have liked him to believe it for a little bit longer but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

"What for then?" Her husband asks, reclining on the side of a chair. "To spy on us?" He is smirking.

Bucky blushes and lowers her gaze, looking down at their feet. She hears her husband chuckle.

"I hope you enjoyed the show, at least." She raises her head and looks at him out of the corner of her eye. His hands is rubbing the captain's shoulder affectionately. She resents him, she resents _both_ of them. She feels her previous anger coming back. "Did you get wet?"

The proud smirk on her husband's face is so ugly. It's too much for her. She slaps him, equally ashamed, equally appalled. 

What she hasn't expected however is to be slapped back, with the same intensity. Her head is yanked on the side. She can almost feel the blood in her mouth. She brings a hand to her face and feels the burn of his fingers on her cheek.

She is about to slap him again when the captain interrupts their squabble by grabbing both their wrists and squeezing hard, holding them with an unbreakable grip. "Enough!" He shouts angrily and then he turns to the king. "Tony, you can't hit your husband."

"Says the man who was just about to strangle her a few minutes ago."

"It is my duty to ensure your safety, your majesty." The captain says teasingly. It's impressive how much joking the two of them can make in this grave moment. _"Your_ duty is to ensure your husband's happiness, which certainly includes not hitting her."

"My husband is a heartless bitch," the king protests, sounding like a pouty child, "and she started it."

The captain squeezes his wrist and tugs on his arm, making the king stumble forward. "Stop acting like a child, Tony, and see to your duties." His voice is angry.

The king's eyes flare with rage. He bites his tongue and glares up into the captain's eyes. "Let go of my hand, captain," he demands, "this instant."

The captain's eyes flare in turn. "Is that your command, your majesty?"

The king makes a hurtful expression and averts his eyes. "No," he mutters, "but I do not appreciate you telling me how I should act with my husband. I have far more important duties than ensuring his well-being. He has people for that. He has everything he needs."

The captain lets go of his hand and then of hers. The king looks at him with gratitude and something deeper, something like longing, something like _love._ Bucky feels her heart shatter in her chest. They keep having silent conversations like she doesn't exist, looking into each other's eyes like the world in theirs, like nothing else matters, like they are pulled to each other like magnets.

The king smiles softly and the captain smiles back.

Bucky hates it. She feels rejected again, unloved, unwanted, useless. The pain and the rage starts roiling inside her again, swirling up her chest like a tornado of emotion. Her chest constricts, the pain lies deep in her being. Her fists clench and her eyes prickle.

"What is so wrong with me that my king would rather spend his nights with a vulgar soldier?" She whispers hurtfully.

After all, wasn't she supposed to be a precious jewel? 

Both men jerks their heads in her direction. The king gives her a look and then he smiles, looking amused. "Oh nothing, my husband dearest," he says with a condescending tone, one that make Bucky feel small when she's taller than him now, very slightly. His eyes are back on the captain and they share another look, another longing feeling. His fingers brush down the captain's shoulder and trail a soft path down his arm to the tip of his fingers. He starts playing with them. "Steve and I have been sharing a bed way before you came to live in this castle."

Bucky loses her temper.

"I _hate_ you." She yells and slaps the kings again. Then she starts hiccuping but the corset is too tight and she feels dizzy every time she takes a breath. "I hate this life. I hate this castle." She's breathing hard, clenching her fist. Her whole body shivers. "I hate my entourage." She continues. "I hate every day I spend. Everything I do." She pulls the brooch in her hair and throws it at her husband's feet. Her hair falls like a cascade on her shoulders. "I _hate_ this." The king's eyes follow the brooch that lands on the floor and glances back at her perplexedly. "I hate this gown." Bucky continues while tearing her clothes off. The fabric is too strong so she bends down, picks up the dagger and cuts through it, ruining her best attire under the dumbfounded look of the two men.

Finally. Finally she can _breathe._

The two pairs of eyes rake over her body, staring at the naked skin. She remembers neither of them ever saw her naked. "I hate—I hate—I hate _everything_ about my life."

The king scratches his beard. "I don't understand," he says. "I'm not asking anything of you. You have everything you want. You have five marvelous ki—"

"I hate them." Bucky chokes out and feels the tears running down her cheeks. Her breathing is hard, wheezing, and her chest is heaving.

The silence is heavy and dreadful. For the first time in her life, she can perceive such a real emotion on her husband's face. He looks deeply hurt for a split-second, his eyes wet. He swallows again. "You hate our children?" He whispers in a strangled voice, looking at her as if the idea seemed inconceivable to him. She feels her tears burn her eyes and is soon blinded with them.

Her breathing is jerky. She sniffles and wipes her face with her forearm. "I don't." She admits in a sob. She doesn't hate them but she doesn't have enough love in her for them. "But..."

She can't finish her sentence. She weeps instead.

"Let me go." She asks after a moment. "Let me go back home. I wanna be free."

The king looks at her pensively. "I can't do that." He says while resting his hands on his hips.

"Then I'll tell everyone what you two are doing in your chambers at night and throw myself out of the highest tower."

"I'll kill you first." The captain growls, his entire body vibrates with rage.

Anthony puts an appeasing hand on his shoulder and he calms down. "No need to be so extreme." He says nonchalantly. "Perhaps, all of us can find a compromise, don't you think?"

Bucky sniffles her last sobs away and looks at her husband, listening to his suggestions.

"Obviously, I can't let you go back." He continues. "It would be bad for both of us. It would bring shame to this kingdom and ruin to your family, surely you don't want that." Bucky shakes her head. Of course it would, how had she not thought about that? "but maybe we can find an arrangement. Maybe, I can have your parents visit us, for starters, if you miss them." Bucky's heart fills with unexpected gratitude. She nods slowly. There is the hint of a smile on her husband's face. He rubs his fingers against his temples and looks around him, eyes unfocused. "So," he starts in a soft voice and stares right back into her eyes. "What do you want?"

The words are blunt and raw and unequivocal. Bucky has no answers. She hesitates. For a moment the two men are looking at her silently, curious and expectant. 

"What is it that you want?" The king repeats. "Just tell me and I'll see what I can do."

"No more corset." She finally blurts. "No more dresses. I wanna dress like a man."

"Granted." The king says while waving a hand dismissively.

"The protocol demands—" The captain adds, arms crossed against his chest, but he is immediately interrupted.

"The hell with the protocol," Anthony says. "I _am_ the protocol."

The captain looks at his lover warmly. "Tony..." he says in a tone suggesting him to be reasonable. 

"How about you keep the dressing gown, no corset, whenever the protocol requires it and dress as you like the rest of the time?"

Bucky hesitates but finally nods. It seems fair, she thinks. And then feels self-conscious. She forgot she was still half-naked, her nudity only covered with shreds of what was once a magnificent dress. Her husband is half-naked too, she remembers. Only wearing that soft tunic in white linen.

"What else?"

"I—I want an education."

Anthony raises an eyebrow. "Didn't you get one, already?" 

"I was taught out to act like a queen," she snaps. "I barely learnt out to decipher the different names on my vials of perfume and sign my name. I want a real education. I want to read. I want to write. To understand the world. To learn about politics, about plants, about—"

Her husband rolls his eyes. He's leaning against the arm of a chair. He, too, has his arms crossed. "Fine."

"I want to see the world."

"I'll take you with me on our next journey." The king replies.

"I wanna be able to fight."

"I'll teach you how to wield the sword." The captain suggests.

"I wanna be able to ride a horse." They didn't have one back at the farm, couldn't afford it.

"I can do that too." He adds, frowning a little.

"I'll build a mechanism to help you use your bad arm, if you need," the king then suggests, and Bucky stares at him bewilderedly. 

"Can you do that?" She asks in a broken voice, tinted with amazement.

"I'll try," he answers with a shrug.

Her entire body relaxes and she suddenly feels ecstatic. The excitement thrums in her heart as she is given more and more freedom and she wonders how much more she can get.

"I'm not a woman." She says. "I wanna be called by my name."

"Alright." Her husband agrees but he makes a face that says a lot about what he thinks about this particular request.

"I want to be allowed to get out of this castle whenever I want." She adds, conscious that her request were becoming more and more unreasonable. She can't help it. She is feeling that _thrill_ again.

"You've always been allowed to. Haven't you been told that? You only need to be escorted wherever you go. Steve will be happy to ensure your protection. I shall not have my husband risk their life."

She stares at both of them with a stunned expression. She didn't know that. 

The two men are looking at her with a somehow gentle expression on their faces. "Is there anything else you'd like?" The king asks softly.

Bucky is lost for words. She feels her entire body tingle. All the good parts throbbing nicely, gently leading her into a daze. 

"I want... I want—I—I—I want _this,_ " she chokes out.

She point at the king's bed. The men's gazes follow her finger. Then they look back at her confusedly.

"You want my _furs?"_

Bucky blushes from head to toe. She starts shaking. "No, I want... I want _this._ I want what you have. I want... what you two share."

The king lets out a surprised chuckle. The captain frowns at her. "You mean _sex,"_ he asks.

Bucky blushes even more and hunches up in shame. Only a soldier might have used such a crude word. When was it when she could speak like that too? Seems like an eternity ago.

She didn't mean... _that._ She meant _everything._

"With _us?"_ The king asks bewilderedly. 

"With... with _someone,"_ she corrects. There is some desperation in her voice. "I want that. I want to be touched like that. I want to be looked at the way you two look at each other. I want to be spoken to the way you speak to each other. I want to be cuddled at night. I never want my bed to be so cold again."

The two alphas share a look. All the amusement on their faces is gone. 

The king turns around and shows his back to them. "As far as I'm concerned. You can share your bed with whoever you want to share it with," he says indifferently, "gods know, _I_ do." And then he turns back and plunges piercing eyes into hers. "As long as they're not alpha," he adds. "For if I find you pregnant with a pup that is not mine. I shall have you beheaded. I will be inflexible."

Bucky feels a shiver run down her spine.

The captain lays a soothing hand on the king's shoulder and his posture relaxes slowly. "I can sense a lot of neglecting on your part, your majesty. Things must change," he says wisely, then he turns to her and frowns. "As for _you_ ," he growls. "If you ever threaten the king again I will throw you out of the high tower myself."

She nods and huffs out a sigh of relief. She feels like a burden has been lifted off her shoulders. Finally she can breathe. Finally she can live and laugh and learn. She can grow. Finally she can _be._

That night when she touches herself, for the first time in her life, she has an orgasm. No the kind of satisfying and needy release he usually has. It's an explosion of feeling and sensation, pure blissful pleasure that heats up and bursts inside of her. Inside of _them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was so long in the end so I decided to divide it into two parts.


	4. Chapter 4

Things drastically changed over the weeks.

Now, Bucky spends most of his time in breeches with a simple tunic and a belt to carry his dagger openly. The king even had male ceremonial attires crafted for him. Beautiful embroidered coats. Ones that fit perfectly his tall stature.

He cut his hair. Not short, for the protocol requires he has long hair, just long enough that he can tie them if needed be. Just above his shoulders. He usually has his maid braid them on his temples so they won't fall onto his face.

Now, his entourage calls him Bucky and so do the king and the king's guards.

He has a private tutor who comes to his chambers everyday, so he can study literature, history and geography, astronomy, and the arts, so she can study politics and sciences. Now, he can spend his afternoons in the library without feeling like an illiterate farm boy. Now, he can write long love letters to whoever will catch his heart.

The king takes him on his little escapades with the guards. They go hunting, drink in taverns, spar, or simply ease off. He has learn of their names now. Clint. Sam. Thor. Peter. They have shared jokes. For the first time in his life, he saw the city. All its splendor and sordidness alike.

She seats at the table of decisions. Her voice _matters._

He's learning how to wield the sword.

She never loved her children as much. They bring her, they bring _him,_ joy each day even more. His life is wonderful. They have everything they want.

But here is the thing... There's something _missing._

The king is tinkering again. He is hunched over a long wooden board. Silent and focused. He is tall and slender with broad shoulders, sometimes he looks somber. His features are so refined, his lips full and his gaze infinitely deep. One can only trail their eyes along the line of his jaw and down his thin nose and see the beauty of him. One can only look at the curvy shape of his back and the lines on his forearms that are strong and confident and safe and fall under his natural and enigmatic spell. One can only follow his lingering scent and feel extremely dizzy, overwhelmed by its headiness.

And Bucky, well, Bucky feels restless and a little giddy. 

He yaps and jigs about. ”Tony?” He slurs on the tip of his tongue.

”uh-huh.”

”How did you and the captain become….”

Tony jerks his head back and frowns. ” _lovers_?”

”Yes.”

The king drops his tool on the board and leans against it, propping his hands behind him. He smirks. Bucky is all ears and steps forward. He holds his limp arm behind his back, like he usually does when his right hand isn't busy so as not to let the thing dangle embarrassingly at his side. 

”I was a very lonely boy growing up..." He trails off, gazing away, eyes unfocused and lost in his memories. "Sometimes, I needed to escape my duties, or my father." He chuckles and his smile softens. His left hand starts fiddling with wood ships which have dusted the wood board. He presses them into his fingers and rolls them into small pellets before flicking them away. "I used to watch the king's guards when they were training," he explains with absent-minded smile. "I would watch them spar longingly." He chuckles again, averting his eyes. Perhaps there even is the hint of a blush creeping on his olive skin. Then he looks right back into Bucky's. "I guess one of them took notice. He was a young, promising soldier with golden hair and eyes as blue as the sea. One day he followed me into the garden and—"

The king never finishes his sentence and leaves the rest of the story to Bucky's imagination. His smile dies down on his lips and his expression darkens when the usual preoccupied furrow appears between his brow.

Bucky stares at him with wide open eyes and parts his lips, curiosity eating him away. At those thoughts he feels a shiver down his spine and warmth pooling at the bottom of his stomach. ”Was he your first?” He rasps breathlessly. 

The king's piercing eyes are back on him. ”He was.”

”Did you have many lovers since then?”

He raises an eye and scratches his beard. His lips are wet and glistening and Bucky can't take his eyes off them. ”Besides you, you mean?" Bucky nods, mouth dry. His husband shrugs. "I would say a dozen. I had no wish to be part of it. But as the prince and as an alpha. It was expected and sort of required of me to do so. So I did..."

Bucky feels the warmth spread in his body. He swallows the lump growing in his throat. "How does it feel?" He asks. His voice comes out hoarse.

Tony chuckles. He crosses his arms and reclines on the board. He hasn't noticed Bucky unconsciously stepped into his personal space and is dangerously leaning closer. ”Aren’t you one annoying brat!”

Suddenly, her lips are on his. 

The king startles and yelps before melting into the kiss. His mouth is hot and so soft. Bucky wants more but Tony's strong hands press on her shoulders and he pushes her back.

"Buck?"

Bucky looks away but still keeps an eye on the king. "You've never kissed me." She says out of breath. Her heart is pounding in her chest. "During those six years, you never kissed me once."

Tony raises his eyebrows and stares at her confusedly. "You didn't want my hands on your body, I figured a kiss—"

Bucky snaps her head up and stares into his eyes. She feels her eyes swell with tears. "I've never been kissed before." She admits. "Before the captain..."

"You haven't?" The king exclaims and his hand mindlessly brushes her cheek. She shivers and parts her lips. His eyes are so gentle. 

Bucky feels extremely frustrated when he leaves the king's chambers. He needs exercising. He goes to the armory and fetches a sword. Then he searches for the captain.

Bucky's swordsmanship skills have improved momentously since he started intense training with the captain. Even with one arm he managed to throw a few of the guards off balance. He feels very proud of himself. 

The sun is high in the sky and its rays glows into the golden shine of the captain's hair. To Bucky the captain is like honey. Strong and sweet and biting. He's like the sun, burning like fire and spreading his protective light. He's grounding like the earth. Sometimes, Bucky remembers the feeling of his inexorable hands on his neck and feels his skin goosebump.

Bucky's blows are hard today. Angry and frustrated. The blades are sparkling and the sound echoes in the yard. He feels ecstatic.

"How old was the prince when you corrupted him?" 

Steve startles and stumbles back.

"I did not corrupt him." He shouts through gritted teeth.

Bucky's blade brushes past the captain's throat. "That's not what I asked."

In a mad groan, the captain slings the sword away. "Thirteen," he finally admits in a low grunt while averting his eyes shamefully. 

"My goodness," Bucky exclaims, his smile sly. "What an immoral riffraff you are! How deviant of you, captain!"

The captain growls and glares at him. 

"There's less age difference between me and him than you and him. You weren't much older when you came to live between those walls."

"But I was of age when the king came into my chambers. I was _ready._ Can you say the same for him?"

The captain lets out an enraged growl and throws his blade into the air. The dust is blown away and sparkles in the sunlight. "If corruption, there was," he shouts while knocking Bucky with enraged blows that he dodges at the last second, "it certainly didn't come from m—"

Too late. Bucky has unsettled him enough and manages to disarm him with one swift blow and swipes him off his feet. He falls on the ground with a loud cling and a deaf humph. 

Bucky straddles him and leans forward, pinning one of the captain's hands on the ground with his good one. "Have you ever had sex with an omega?" 

Steve is crimson red and all flustered. The blush sinks down his neck into his armor. He huffs out a dusty breath.

"I've only ever been with the king." He rasps, voice breathless and broken. Bucky is pressing on his ribs with all her weight. 

She tilts her head on the side. "The king has been with other people."

"The _king,"_ Steve spits while easily freeing his hand to grab her waist and lifting her body off him like she weighs nothing—which she doesn't, "has responsibilities and duties and people's expectations to live up to that neither of us can encompass."

Bucky pouts.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" He asks while the captain strides away through the dark corridors. His loud steps hitting the cobblestones as if he dropped his armor on them each time. Bucky trails behind him, jumping about and out of breath.

"I shall leave to my quarters now, your highness. I will see you to your next training session."

Bucky feels extremely frustrated. That night she wakes up in sweat, her body burning all over. He can't wait anymore. They _need_ to do something.

She slips into her male clothes and sneaks out of her chambers.

Her steps lead her to the king's chambers. She walks up to the guards and tells them the king is awaiting her. They let her through. 

When she steps inside and walks over to the large canopy bed surrounded by heavy hangings, she doesn't expect to see the captain in the king's bed, awake, both of them entangled in the linen and furs, warmly lit by the dim orangey glimmer of the candles by the posters.

Her breath catches in her throat. She makes an abrupt halt and swallows painfully. She feels her knees buckle and wavers on her feet, flabbergasted. The king is sitting up against the wall, squinting while trying to read by the candlelight, the captain lies on his stomach across his legs. The king's fingers skim mindlessly the pale skin of the other alpha, wandering aimlessly on his lower back, climbing up and sliding down the bump and curves of his nakedness. 

The view is breathtaking. Bucky can't quite tear their eyes away from the blatant possessive bite mark on the king's shoulder.

They stare wordlessly and swallow. Their fidgety fingers reach out their face and they gasp. The king's warm and gentle eyes flicker to them. He looks startled and parts his lips in confusion. 

"Bucky?"

The Captain's head jerks up in their direction.

"What are you doing here?" The king asks softly.

Bucky pulls on their collar and starts unbuttoning their clothes. "I can't find anyone," they admit. "I don't know how. You're my husband," they demand,"you have to help me. _You're_ the one supposed to share my bed."

The captain sits up and hauls himself on the cushions. The two alphas stare at them, astonished. 

"I'm confused," the king grumbles while looking away. "I thought you weren't new to this. You said—" Bucky shivers. Their eyes gleam and they blink. The king stops.

"It was just that one time." Bucky shouts, feeling their cheek redden and burn with shame. They shake with fear. 

"Come here." The king says with so much gentleness in his voice and he scoots over on the side to make some room for them. The captain does the same. 

Bucky takes the rest of their clothes off and climbs onto the bed in between the two naked alphas. They're wearing nothing but a light tunic and light knickerbockers. 

The king cups their face in his hand and the captain puts a reassuring hand on their knee. "Shhh." 

They stop shivering. They tell them about Brock.

"I think it is time for us to pay a visit to your parents." The king decides. "I want to see where you grew up. We shall bring the children with us, too. It will do them good to see the countryside. They need to know who their subjects will be."

Bucky falls asleep in the warmth of the king's bed, with memories of the rolling valleys of their childhood. Of their fingers brushing the ears of wheat. Of the golden summer light on the fields. Of his sisters' cries and laughs. Of the tenderness of their mother's hand. 

They've never slept so peacefully.

***

"Where am I going?" Bucky asks. "I thought we were to visit my parents."

"We shall leave in the next fortnight. It is a five days journey to go there. It needs time and preparation. I've already seen through with the Count. He will accommodate us in his castle."

Bucky shuts his mouth. He had no idea. He doesn't remember it took that long for him to come here. He must have been in a daze then.

"Are you sure it's safe to bring our children?" He inquires, feeling a sudden deep increasing pain at the worry. "Morgan is only ten months old."

"And she _walks!"_ Tony exclaims proudly. "I am sure," he adds with a fond smile. "We'll be escorted by the best soldiers of the king's guard. One of ours can kill a dozen of them. It would be an unfair fight, believe me."

Bucky nods but he isn't feeling reassured. 

"In the meantime," Tony proclaims. "We shall see to your.... _issues_ ," he says while waving a dismissive hand in the air. "Barton will take you to the brothel."

Bucky is aghast. "What? _No!"_

"What do you mean? I thought you wanted to find someone. The brothel is the best place to start off and then, when you feel confident enough, you can start hunting for yourself—"

"I don't wanna go with Barton," Bucky protests. "I wanna go with you. With _both_ of you."

The king startles and raises confused eyes at him. "Why would you want to go with us?" He asks dubiously.

"Because you're my husband," Bucky whispers, lowering her eyes. She brings a hand to her face and nibbles at her fingers anxiously. She feels her entire body warm up at the thought. "You're my alpha," she adds, voice raspy and broken. "I feel safe with you."

"The king raises skeptical eyebrows and crosses his arms. "That's a shocking news."

Bucky feels a shiver running up and down her spine. "He was always there with you when you went, wasn't he?" 

Tony parts his lips in shock. "Fine," he concedes. "We will all go. The three of us. And Barton will ensure our protection _and_ discretion." Bucky snorts, the words _Barton_ and _discretion_ in the same sentence didn't suit well together but maybe she doesn't know the soldier well enough.

That visit to the brothel turns out to be extremely disappointing. 

Firstly, Bucky is absolutely incapable to tell them what his type is. He barely mutters a _'female'_ when the king asks and feels very unenthusiastic in front of the line of beautiful, very naked, women of all ethnics and types and shapes and colors that were brought to him. 

He tries, though, with several of them. And it doesn't... Well, it's doesn't _feel_ like he had imagined. It's not... It's nothing like what he had a glimpse of during his loneliest nights. Perhaps he had been mistaken when he said he was attracted to woman. His attraction and tastes seem to be fickle lately.

In the end, he peeps through the curtains of the king's allotted room and watches him and the captain enjoy each other. Then and there, she finally feels hot and wet and burning with want. They feel desire, pure unabashed desire, and a maddening pleasure building up inside of them.

***

"Are there female alphas?" Bucky asks in the carriage that is bringing them to his former home.

"Of course. They are almost as rare as male omegas but they do exist. I have had the pleasure to meet a couple of them."

"Can they impregnate me?"

The king startles and scowls at him. "Are you sure it is something we should discuss in the presence of our children." Stephen and Grant are riding with them. The small ones are with Peggy in the other carriage.

Bucky crosses his arms sulkily. If one can say crossing his arms in his case.

"They can't." Tony grumbles. "They are women."

"And I am a man and yet I can get pregnant. Why is that?"

"Why, they _are_ a bit different, aren't they?" The king hisses annoyedly. "They don't—they can't... Well, obviously." He spits.

Bucky shrugs and looks outside, lifting the curtain with a finger. "I just think it's odd. That's all..."

"There is a reason why omegas are treasured and male omegas even more. They're said to be extremely fertile and very strong. Very suited to bring into the world the healthiest progeny."

Bucky uncrosses his arms, dropping the limp one on his lap, and turns his gaze to his husband. He gapes in shock and feels tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. 

Nothing else is said for the rest of the journey.

"Did the king know?" Bucky asks when the caravan stops. Tony glances at him questioningly. "About you," she adds.

Tony averts his eyes. "He found out."

"What did you do?"

"I promised I'll do whatever he wanted if he let Steve live."

"Did that include marrying me?"

Tony's only reply is a hurtful snort.

She throws a hateful glare at him.

When Bucky steps down the carriage and jumps down into the mud, she recognizes nothing. The landscape is the same but the farm is... The farm is _huge._ It's not a farm it's a castle. She glances at the king questioningly. "My father paid good money for you," he answers noncommittally. 

Bucky shudders. She treads her boots on the yard that used to be her playing area, escorted by two men, and watches her children hop down the carriage one after the other. She is wearing a male attire. Her parents meet them outside. The youngest of her older sisters run to her. The captain raises his sword protectively. Bucky knows in herself, at this moment, that the captain would die for her. The thought makes her feel dizzy.

"She's my sister," she chokes out. Steve lowers his hand but remains on the defensive. Becca stops and doesn't dare come closer. Bucky wishes she would. She walks out of her human prison to meet her mother and wrap her into a manly embrace. She shivers when her hands cup her face and she stares up at him with eyes filled with pride. "My boy," she whispers.

Bucky buries her head into her mother's neck and shudders. "Mama." She lets out in a shivering voice. She lets her tears flow out of her. 

She introduces everyone of her children proudly. Her parents can't quite believe that eight years after selling their youngest child to the king they would see them so tall and manly and beautiful in his red and golden embroidered clothes, having already begotten five beautiful and healthy children full of live after only six years of marriage.

Bucky can finally muster a smile.

"Where are the other?" She asks the captain. 

"They had an errand to run." Steve answers. "They shall be back before the sunset." She shivers. 

She turns back and sees her husband in the distance, standing proudly on a butte, his cloak of furs flapping with the wind. The sun is shining behind him and she can only see his piercing dark eyes and feels the hardness of his gaze burn her skin.

Her heart skips a beat.

By the time they leave the farm, the sun is already setting and the sky is of wonderful orange and purple shades. After spending the entire day with their family, Bucky finally knows what they want. 

They send their two oldest boys in the other carriage. "I need to have a private conversation with the king," they say as a justification. Tony blinks at them.

While inside the carriage, Bucky doesn't say a word however. Instead, they stare at the man in front of them and drink their alpha scent. Their body is burning with want. They unbutton their collar and lets out a shivering sigh. The king frowns at them confusedly. He lets his warm and gentle gaze trail down the line of their throat.

Bucky grabs him by the lapel of his cloak and leans into him. They kiss him heatedly, clicking their teeth against his and forcing their tongue in his mouth. 

Tony gasps and stares into their eyes, questioning, but Bucky can see the dark and feral glimmer of want in the alpha's gaze as he bares his teeth out and growls deep in his throat. A sound that makes Bucky's entire body shudder. The alpha brushes his fingers down their cheek and along their collarbone. Bucky starts ripping him off his clothes. He lets them.

***

For the first time in their life, Bucky feels complete. For the first time they feel happy and content. They feel amazing. They gasp when the king sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin of their shoulder, marking them, and let escape a moan when the captain bites their neck in turn. The blond alpha slips his fingers into their limp hand and they shivers with the touch, their hypersensitive skin enhancing the sensation, while the brunet strokes their belly softly, amorously. Steve nuzzles into their neck and Tony kisses them. Softly, at first, and then his kisses deepen and become languorous and heated. He laughs into their ear. 

"My precious jewel," he whispers. "You are the second best thing that happened to me."

"Why not the first?" Bucky protests. 

"Well, I met Steve first." The king replies nonchalantly. He and Steve share a look and smile and then they kiss.

"And I met Tony first." Steve adds with a low raspy voice that makes Bucky's lower belly pool with want. 

"What if I get pregnant," Bucky interrupts their languorous kiss, "with _his_ child?" They ask. 

Tony chuckles. "There is nothing that would make me happier than seeing one of Steve's offspring on the throne." Steve blushes.

They all cuddle.

"There is something I need to tell you," Bucky interrupts again, their voice breathless and parched. "I am not a _she_."

Tony chuckles again. "Yes, we figured that much." 

"I'm not a _he_ either." They both look startled and stare at them questioningly but no less warmly. "I am both and neither. I am omega." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> If you enjoyed this and want to leave kudos, I'll be eternally grateful.


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